


27 Sent You 1 Picture

by potterhead25



Series: Romances of the Wizarding World [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Hermione Granger, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, FBI Agent, Female Characters, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Gay, Girls Kissing, Kind of a plot, Kissing, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Character of Color, Lesbian Sex, Love, Magical Girls, Masturbation, Minister for Magic Hermione Granger, Ministry of Magic, Muggle Technology meets Magic, NSFW, Oral Sex, Pansmione - Freeform, Pansy Parkinson - Freeform, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Sensuality, Sex, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Slash, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Witches, You Have Been Warned, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterhead25/pseuds/potterhead25
Summary: Hermione Granger is one of the most respected and liberal Ministers of the Wizarding World, with a secret that would curl even Rita Skeeter's greasy hair.





	27 Sent You 1 Picture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vynleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vynleen/gifts).



> This is for my beautiful friend Heidi who has been so amazing and patient while I get this story just perfect. I know it's been due for months now but we finally did it! I hope you enjoy it, love!
> 
> I will keep updating these stories as I get the time to write more.
> 
> If you, the reader like this story, please leave a comment and a kudo to keep me writing more material!

“I’ll be right back.”

She kept her phone clutched tightly in her hand, afraid it would fall any second and the display might miraculously light up, praying it wouldn’t.

Her office was just a few steps away – she could see the door from here and nobody was around. Hermione hoped it would stay that way.

She pulled out her wand, unlocked the door, slipped in and moaned—

“What am I doing…”

The wood door felt cool against her forehead. The phone buzzed in her hand. The display lit up: _27 sent you 1 picture._

She tapped it, waited while the photo loaded. She went to her desk and sat down behind it.

Someone rapped on the door. “Ma’am?”

Deftly she turned her phone on its face, slipped a piece of parchment over it and pointed her wand at the door.

“Yes, Walter?”

“An owl just arrived from Hogwarts. It’s from professor McGonagall. It’s marked urgent, the owl won’t leave until you read it, she pecked me all the way to your door.”

A faint hoot affirmed his claim. She put out her hand and Walter handed over the letter.

“She really ought to embrace technology now, the whole department has been breathing down my neck for the past month with petitions for the school,” she said.

“Well there’s too much magic around the school. More enchantments than the entire Ministry.”

“I know, Walter, but I can only push the Department of Mysteries so far to develop charms to allow electronics to work in the castle.”

“Of course, but you _are_ their Minister, ma’am. They work for _you_.”

Hermione let out a deep breath and unrolled the letter. It had one word on the entire roll.

_No._

She was sure she heard an owl hoot and take flight outside her door.

*

Hermione sat at her desk staring at her phone. Though the new wireless system was slow, she knew the wait would be fruitful.

_I should check once more._

She slipped out of her seat and opened the door to her office. The corridor wasn’t entirely empty, but she didn’t think anyone would disturb her. Walter would be busy sending owls.

_Five minutes._

She turned the key in the lock with a satisfying click. She hoped no one heard it on the other side. Her robe slipped off her shoulders to lie in a bunch at her feet.

_What if…_

She bent forward, coy-like, pulling off the straps of her heels. Her heart raced. _This is stupid._ Stepping out of them she tip-toed across the cold stone back to her set behind the desk. The phone’s display had dimmed from the lack of activity, but she’d get to that soon.

She could picture the girl with the raven hair mussed stylishly to frame her face, sitting in the chair facing her desk. She’d be wearing the white shirt she’d worn last time with the collars turned up to touch the jaw: it would be untucked, and the pants underneath would sag just a little as she sat with her legs apart.  The zipper and clasp at the side would be undone. She’d have the tip of her index finger resting lightly against her temple. The face was covered in a shadow—of what, Hermione didn’t know.

A conversation began in her head.

 _You look beautiful._ The voice was mellow, yet husky, not overtly, just enough to send Hermione’s heart racing once more.

“All for you,” Hermione whispered.

Footsteps. Hermione jumped up to grab her robe by the door but stopped short. They began to fade away down the corridor and she relaxed. She bent her knees to the floor and dug through the robe’s pockets to fish out her wand.

 _“Colloportus! Muffliato!”_ she whispered, pointing the wand at the door. _That was stupid._ Her eyes turned to the back of the room. She stood up and waved her wand in a swooping fashion, extinguishing all the candles around her. The room darkened save for the dull light from the two windows behind her: the weather department had chosen to be rather gloomy today. She pulled the blinds down on both.

The clasp of the skirt came undone with a flick of her thumb and she slipped it down past her hips to a pool of shimmering black at her feet. Her untucked blouse felt a lot airier, the air around her much colder—the cool fabric of her seat raised goosebumps on her thighs and arms. She set her wand on the desk, slid the phone toward her and unlocked it.

The picture had loaded. The image was angled to perfection, expertly shadowed, and yet it looked effortless as the woman lounged in the chair. Her head was thrown back exposing a smooth neck before it split into two collarbones, just visible under the white fabric of the shirt she wore. Imitating the picture, Hermione slowly popped the buttons of her blouse.

Hermione never bothered much with her appearance; she preferred her coworkers respected her for her work rather than flatter her with compliments about her appearance. It must be amazing to look that way though. Her teeth looked much better than they used to, and her hair was usually pulled back into a tight bun these days. Her face had stayed clear of the sudden outbreak of acne she suffered once. She exercised regularly and avoided anything and everything that came out of a Honeydukes wrapper.

None of that could hold a candle to what she was looking at; there was an elegance in the way the breast curved under the fabric. The red nipple, just visible as a little dark patch on the corner of the screen. Her skin was pale, seemingly unaffected by the sudden flush Hermione experienced every time she took a photo of herself in such a manner. The navel was perfect, sitting comfortably over skin taut over what she was sure were muscles underneath. The skin spread down to the bottom edge of the picture, low enough to not expose anything, save for the fact that there wasn’t an undergarment.

She swiped the screen to the next picture. It looked just as effortless as the first one.

The picture began halfway down her nose, a delicate structure. The philtrum crowned a set of gorgeously lush lips painted in the most stunning red Hermione had ever seen. The lower lip was trapped under white teeth on the right, biting in just a little while the left corner was tilted up. Her jaw was perfectly shaped, not chiseled as most people liked their jaws to be, just a smooth transition from the slope of her cheeks, framed by the short cut of her jet-black hair. The neck was elegantly tense, the top covered in the shadow of her chin, while the rest led down to the V of her blouse.

Hermione wondered what such smooth décolleté would feel against her lips. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, leaning back into her chair. She hit the back button and began typing.

_Sorry for the delay, got busy with work. You look so gorgeous._

The reply came through almost immediately.

_Been waiting for you ;) Let’s talk._

The screen switched to show an incoming call. There was no caller ID, but she would recognise the number in her sleep. She tapped the button and lifted the phone to her ear.

Neither party said anything. They didn’t need to.

Hermione heard a faint rustle at the other end of the line – another sound: like a deep breath exhaled straight into the microphone. She rested her hair on the back of the chair, sliding her hand up to her neck. She began to trail her fingers lightly, first on the side, then the little dip between her collarbones; the silence around her was so pure, she could feel her blood pump through her veins.

“Are you horny, my love?” The voice washed over her like thick and sensual honey.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered.

“Are you touching yourself?”

Instinctively, Hermione’s right hand went past her waist, pulling past her underwear. Her fingers stroked the light coat of down before going deeper to find the flesh that ached to be touched – and when her fingers met the flesh she sighed. It had been so long.

“Good girl,” said the voice on the phone.

“Have you been tracking me again?” Hermione whispered.

“I’m always with you.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Since I took those pictures. Did you enjoy them?” Her voice was almost a purr.

“Very much.”

“All for you… Go deeper.”

Hermione pushed past the lips, burying two fingers in her warmth while the thumb lay firmly on the little bud. She withdrew and went back in, glad that she’d clipped her nails the night before.

“Two,” she whispered.

“I envy your fingers.”

“Me too. With all those pictures you send…”

“Sometimes I pretend these are your fingers inside me. Stroking me... Holding me the way you hold your pen, firm and so sure of what you’re doing. Never second-guessing. Always going forward… deeper…”

Hermione twisted her fingers, biting back a moan, turning it into a mewl, so lusty it made her blush to hear herself.

_It’s been so long…_

They both turned quiet. Both breathed deeply, moaned at their touches, occasionally groaned as the pleasure washed over them.

The hand holding her phone to her ear set the device in the crook of her neck, between the head and the tender flesh where her shoulder met her arm. That hand slipped under her blouse, pulling down her bra roughly to push up her breasts. The fabric of the blouse felt cool and rough against her nipples. She pinched the right one, first roughly, then slowly, stroking it with the pad of her finger. The hand crept up through the neck of her blouse to her mouth. She licked her fingertips and went back down, rubbing wet circles around the swollen tips. The flesh they crowned was hot and even in the cool atmosphere of her office she felt a light sheen of sweat coat her neck.

Her caller groaned louder than before. A spurt of warmth shot through Hermione’s midriff; the heat coursed through her veins, making her strokes faster, shorter, more focused on that one spot she loved to touch inside of her. She rubbed her bud too, as quick as she could.

_So close._

The voice trembled: “I’m coming, oh m— _oh god!_ ”

She didn’t hear much of her caller’s moans. The orgasm that shook her body took precedence over everything else: the way her walls clenched and unclenched around her wet fingers, the agony and need to have something _more_ touch her, the way her skin felt so hot and cold at the same time, the way her nipples hardened and tightened, almost painfully, while her moans were stuck somewhere in her chest, then up in her throat but wouldn’t go past her lips. She saw nothing, just pure white bliss. And when the sensations faded and gave way to the damp fabric of her seat against her back and thighs, she slumped, almost losing her grip on her phone.

The hand came out from under her blouse to hold the phone up to her ear; her neck cricked as she straightened it.

“How long has it been since your last orgasm?” the caller panted. Hermione could hear the smile in their voice.

“About five seconds,” she whispered. Both giggled and sighed. Hermione knew she had the stupidest grin on her face. All she needed was a warm bed to curl up in now. Preferably in the arms of her caller.

“I’m watching you,” the caller said. “I’m always watching you.”

“You don’t know everything,” Hermione murmured.

“I’d like to,” the voice whispered.

Suddenly, her office felt a bit too small for her. “Work calls, love,” she said.

The voice made little sound, like a scoff. Like a half-chuckle. It succeeded in its attempt to make Hermione pout and furrow her brow.

“Make the coin, Miss. Don’t be a stranger.”

A beep signaled the end of the call and Hermione took the phone off her ear and set it on the desk. She eyed her wand for a minute before she picked it up. She always liked the craftmanship of the instrument. It looked even prettier in the dull glow of her office. She held it in her hand, firmly, pointing the tip downward, lightly touching it to her lips, sliding it across the folds, just the surface, enjoying the feel of the smooth wood against her flesh.

As she stroked upward, the tip touched her bud and an idea formed in her mind. She held the wand steady in the same position, closed her eyes and relaxed. She hummed once, twice, three times, then gasped as the jolt ran through her body. It felt good, just not powerful enough. This time she murmured the spell under her breath. Definitely much stronger.

*

As she came down from her second (yet incomparable to the original) high, she began to wonder of the consequences of what she and this department were trying to accomplish. Could she truly modernize the wizarding community? Would she be praised for it? Would they curse her for this? They would remember her though, one way or the other. She wondered of when she would be able to retire. And would her caller be with her by then… she certainly hoped so…

*


End file.
